Two Guys at a Restaurant
by SamCyberCat
Summary: Layton and Clive use an evening at a restaurant to cause one another some petty discomfort and discuss a few home truths. Layton/Clive.


Notes – Set sometime after one of my other fics, 'Making a Family', with established Layton/Clive. You'd have to read the other fic to understand this one, which I apologise for, because I don't usually like writing fics that require reading other fics to make sense of them. Originally I wasn't even going to post this at all, because it was written purely for myself when I wanted some Layton/Clive fluff, but I've realised that, considering it's my favourite pairing, there's a severe lack of Layton/Clive fics in my account. So I decided to post this one to attempt to remedy that a bit. Beware of pointless fluff and probable spoilers for the third game.

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><p>"I suppose that you find some form of amusement in this," Layton commented, watching Clive from across the table they were sat at.<p>

"Don't know what you're talking about," replied Clive innocently, without looking at him. He was currently trying to make eye-contact with one of the many waiters who were darting around the room. "For all the staff they have at this place it, certainly does take a long time to get service," he muttered.

Ignoring that last statement, Layton went on, "You do know what I'm talking about, Clive, because this is exactly how our relationship always goes – you take delight in forcing me out of my comfort zone to squirm for your own amusement."

"I take you out to dinner and you say that I'm making you squirm for my own amusement?" replied Clive, looking back across at him and pretending to be hurt.

"You do this all the time," Layton confirmed.

"When have we ever been to a restaurant together before?" Clive countered.

"Perhaps this is the first time at this particular location, but you cannot deny that you keep trying to force our… connection into more of a public light when you know that I don't feel comfortable about that," Layton answered.

Shaking his head, still smiling, Clive replied, "No, I can't deny that I enjoy it. But it isn't as if I'm shouting from the rooftops proclaiming that we're dating, is it?"

"I only wonder how long it'll take you to get to that point," said Layton.

Clive laughed; "Fortunately for you I'm a bit more subtle. I know what it would do to your reputation if people were to find out about us. The newspapers went to town on just you taking me in after the court case settled, so this would give them months worth of slander to print. Trust me, I know how they think."

"Then why this?" asked Layton, motioning around the restaurant.

"Because Emmy's only back in London for a short time and, unlike most people, she actually likes Elliot enough to want to spend time with him. Because, let's face it, we really don't get much time together without him around. And I thought that while we did have someone who wasn't opposed to babysitting on hand, that going out like a… a normal couple, would be nice," said Clive, dropping his smirk for long enough to show that he was completely serious about this.

"Oh," replied Layton. That was apparently all he had to say on the matter. He was so used to everything Clive said being an act that on the rare occasions when the other man dropped that act and was just honest it often caught him off guard. "Well, this is a nice gesture," he managed.

"It'd be a nice evening too if you'd stop worrying for two minutes," agreed Clive.

"I'm not worrying," Layton replied.

"Then stop glancing around the room so much. It isn't as if Dean Delmona is going to jump out from behind the bar and fire you just for being here," Clive joked, "And even if someone you know does turn up out of chance, they probably won't jump to any conclusions anyway. Two guys at a restaurant is hardly unusual. I wouldn't think we were dating if I was just casually passing us."

"I'm a bit too old to class this as a date," Layton chuckled, putting himself a bit more at ease. Clive was right about that, at least, it was unlikely that anyone who knew them would be here in the first place.

"Well, whatever you call dates when you get to your age then," said Clive, going back to trying to get the attention of a waiter.

"Watch who you're calling old, my boy," threatened Layton.

"You started it," Clive hummed, then added, "Damn, why do they never look over this way? Does anyone ever get served here?"

Layton regarded the distracted Clive with momentary fondness. Their relationship had been an awkward one that was mostly kept behind closed doors, but they managed. Admittedly, Layton felt that one's relationships always should be kept as private as possible regardless of situation, but he always felt a little guilty that they couldn't be more open about themselves, for Clive's sake. Clive came across as the sort of person who was bluntly honest about his relationships, so Layton wouldn't have been surprised if he was offended by the Professor's request to keep this out of the public eye in the first place. But he had been nothing but understanding. Clive had made it clear that he wanted to be with Layton, so any rules that Layton laid down about the situation he would gladly follow. As much as he did push those rules enough to make Layton feel nervous when they were out in public together, Clive never actually broke them.

So perhaps it wouldn't be wrong of Layton to let his rules lapse enough for them to enjoy this meal like 'a normal couple', as Clive had put it.

"Any luck?" Layton pressed.

"Yes, finally. We've got one of them coming over now," Clive replied, as a tall waiter made his way across to the table. "Yes, we're ready to order," Clive snapped, before the man even got the words out of his mouth, "I'll have…" he paused in thought, then a dangerous smirk crossed his face, "My friend here is quite fond of French cuisine, actually. So he'll take the escargot as a starter followed by… whatever your posh term for frog's legs is. And to drink, he'll have coffee. But it has to be instant, otherwise he gets quite upset."

Layton gaped at Clive.

French cuisine and instant coffee?

Coffee, of all things!

Just when he was thinking something nice about Clive, the other man has to go and do something like this. Well two could play at that game.

"And since we know each other so well, it's only fair that I order for my associate here too," said Layton, cutting Clive off before he could go any further, "You must understand that he is used to food of a more common standard than you usually serve at this fine establishment, so please try not to be too offended when I can say, with great certainty, that he would simply like a cheese and onion pasty served with the greasiest chips you can provide."

Clive looked horrified.

"A pasty? We might as well have just gone to the Baker's Oven!" exclaimed the other man.

"At least your food will be edible," muttered Layton, pleased with himself for causing Clive such discomfort.

"Says you. You know how I feel about grease on… well, any food really, but especially chips!" Clive protested.

"And you know how I feel about French cuisine," Layton retorted, calmly.

"Are you… sure that's what you want to order?" the hapless waiter asked, timidly.

"Yes!" the both said in union, causing the man to scuttle away.

Once he was gone they glared across the table at one another. But neither could keep a straight face for very long. In a few seconds they were both laughing enough to attract the attention of nearby tables more than what Layton had been worried about earlier by just being there. He found that he wasn't caring about this fact right now.

"You're terrible, I just can't take you anywhere," Clive managed, once he'd calmed down from laughing.

"And you're even worse," replied Layton, smiling fondly.

"Fine, okay, I was asking for that. But what are we going to do with all this horrible food when it gets here?" Clive asked.

"If Luke was still with us that would not be a problem," said Layton, "But as things stand, I'm not too opposed to a pasty. It might not be a gentleman's dinner, but it certainly does have a very English feel to it."

"Yeah, and I don't think this French stuff is as bad as you say it is either," replied Clive, "So, fine, let's swap."

"And the coffee?"

"We can leave that."

"I didn't actually order a drink for you, did I? Well I can call him back and get you a-"

"N-no! It's fine, really. I'll just get a tap water when they come with the food."

It seemed that Clive was still worried about Layton furthering the petty vengeance on the food order.

Instead, the other man reached across the table, putting his hand on top of Clive's. He was awkward about displaying affection of this sort away from home, but he felt it was necessary. Certainly, this action caught Clive off guard.

"Layton, I thought…"

"Thank you," Layton murmured, "I know that if it was down to you we'd probably be a lot more open about our relationship, but I appreciate you doing this for me. And I also appreciate you going out of your way to arrange for us to go out to dinner together. Just, thank you."

"It isn't going exactly as planned," Clive admitted, colouring a little at the unexpected affection from the Professor.

"With us, it never does," Layton reminded.

"That's what I like about… um, us," Clive admitted.

"As do I," agreed Layton, shifting a little as the waiter returned with a plate of escargot and a steaming mug of coffee. And he found that he genuinely meant that too. A normal relationship just didn't seem to fit him after everything that happened in his life.

Watching Clive prod one of the snails uncertainly, Layton decided that he'd like to make more time for them to spend together.

Provided that they could find a babysitter for Elliot, of course.


End file.
